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Topic: Ship Six (Read 19558 times)

7 moved out of the cargo area, heading into one of the larger service corridors. The smaller, human sized corridors were too small to fit the bulk of his coffin-suit through. He uttered a muted curse, most of the primary powerjacks would be located in those areas. He toggled through his internal memory banks, brining up maps of Six. They floated in the HUD, his location pinpointed in red, the rest in eerie green. The nearest powerjack was a power coupling for loader droids, big bore and high power to keep the droids from lingering while they recharged.

Lock ducked down into the railcar. She had a weapon, but it was only a light one. Automatically, a small note was stored away in her memory, telling her to scrounge something bigger provided she got the chance. She popped up out of cover for a second and fired. She couldn't really damage anything structurally important, but she could still do damage to the surroundings. More if she hit one of those ugly buggers.

Tschuho-!manxu dropped down to lower levels, swinging one-armed from a gleaming pipe. He fell very far, but as he neared the lower floor, he curled into a tight ball, and his armor seemed to slicken and form around him as he bounced and rolled to a crouching position in landing. The other Szchra soldiers followed shortly in a similarly-acrobatic manner. Several passageways spread outward from this point- one of these would lead downwards to the lower floor where the fugitive creatures had escaped too."We will form separate swarms." He indicated separate members of groups with his two center fingers, and counting off: "!un, hrunkh, tschekht."The seperate groups split apart.Group !un, led by Tschuho-!manxu plunged off expeditiously, with Group Hrunkh departing soon after. But Group Tschekht remained behind.!ta-!ta was the leader of Group Tschekht, and unbeknownst to the other members of the battle-swarm, was not a Szchra, but a Pikhft. Perhaps the destinction is overly fine in human terms, but suffice to say, the Pikhft and the Szchra did not have precisely the same culture, and in the Szchra fleet, this was cause for extermination. Group cultural evolution, especially when limited to the size of a large fleet of starships, frequently is hostile to opposing cultures. The Pikhft had lived for centuries among the Szchra fleet, dwelling in secret, speaking their similar-yet-different language in secret, living in seclusion that Szchra found curious. So adept had they become that there was no longer but a hint of their presence, a hint easily overlooked by the Szchra.!ta-!ta, who was also known by his Szchra name, Khfiva-Khfiva-Iszchuxum, turned to his warriors."We go not this way. I do not smell the dogs on the air." He mimicked the olfactory sense by twitching the muscular folds around the glands on the bottom of his jaw.One of his warriors looked up, dared to speak, for "Khfiva-Khfiva-Iszchuxum" was known to be sometimes lenient of control and fvasz!onkh, which is a difficult Szchra concept that might translate something like: "honorable fist return", but which we might understand as "having absolute authority, absolute honor, absolute relentlessness, and absolute skill".The warrior said: "This one does not agree, Honorable-Phrase-Stating One. This one believes that the Masterful-Fvasz!onkh-Ruling-Spirit One," that is to say, Tschuho-!manxu, "is correct in deduction- the demon-beings lie in the Direction of the Cogitative-Mastering-Aura."!ta-!ta gave the equivalent of a sigh, a sort of low coughing noise. These Szchra and their endless reverent titles and endless honor-names.!ta-!ta said: "We go."Tersely, he turned, and stalked in the direction of what his master had told him, the chamber identified as the Masterful-Deep-Thinking-Entity-Capacitation, but what we might call the AI chamber.

It was quiet in the service corridor as 7 cycled the powerport open, and snaked the arm thick cable of its holding bracket. He could feel the hum as power coursed through the cable, not anywhere near capacity. Many of the ships reactors were offline. He grimaced at how long the energy transfer took, but some things couldnt be helped. He looked up at the lines of loader droids, automatons that could be preprogrammed to build the structeres of new habitations, power plants, and the like to support the new colonies. If he had time, and a better grasp of the droid binary language he could do some interesting things with the machines. But that was there, and this was here. He unhooked the power coupling, and let it snake back into the wall. Power reserves were full, and shone green.

He disabled the ARC cannon and discarded it. The weapon had only limited value, and drained far too much power for his liking. For a moment he considered hooking the weapon directly to the power coupling for a stationary weapon. Stationary weapons didnt fit into the standard Guerilla program that he was operating on. Time to head back into the fray, there were intruders to deal with.

He paused again, toggling mentally the controls to the wireless transciever/transmitter located somewhere in the anterior portion of what had once been his skull.

Four stood some two feet behind seven, his back to seven as he looked at their entryway. The all of a sudden his vision became blurred and when it cleared he was no longer with seven, but in a red land running in an old fashioned space suit. Explosions were going off around him and tracers of red, green, and blue light paced by him, some hitting their targets. He knelt just in time to recieve a shot to the throat and everything became stars and he was back here. Four shuddered, something his suit showed.

Logged

Evil Is A Faceless Stranger,Living In A Distant NeighborhoodEvil Has A Wholesome, Hometown FaceWith Merry Eyes And An Open SmileEvil Walks Among Us, Wearing A MaskWhich Looks Like All Our Faces

277 jolted to awareness- the shadowed ceiling of the AI Sanctum filled her gaze. A pair of Statrons drifted overhead.

"Stand. Stand. Stand."A fussy, precise voice was speaking in her mind. It became slowly louder, and behind it welled a flood of memories, strange, half-remembered voices, giggles, screams. A figure flashed across her vision, disappearing into shadows."Stand. Stand. Stand."

As ordered she stood up. Focusing on what had happened. Attention shifted trying to see into the shadows. Having seen something disappear in that direction. Then surge of memories leaving her briefly disoriented. Clearing her mind. She looked up at the Stratons. "What are your orders?"

The Statrons rotated, floated in a circle around 277 and drifted above her head like a halo.There was the characteristic sparkling holo-flash. The blonde man and his anachronistic garment projected from the ceiling. He gestured towards the open doorway."Quickly, now. We must proceed. One comes who's intentions cannot be calculated in a satisfactory manner."The holographic man began to stride from the room showing a haste and impatience quite unlike his former "self".

#277 followed like a good soldier. Heading towards the doorway. Following the holographic man. Systems preparing to fight should the need arise. Cybernetic limbs and circuitry making readjustments. The organic mind was racing. Uncertain as to what had happened in that room. Knowing it was important.

A simple question asked. "Do you view them as a threat?"

If their intentions could not be calculated, the level of threat that they posed, could be. Protect and serve one's master. And until the humans were awake, the AIs were in charge. And #277 would obey their orders.

The man hazed at the edges and there was a clicking noise."They may be. It cannot be determined at this time. But let it be known that this is a most inopportune moment for an intruder."He whirled busily around a series of corners and came to a sealed doorway. His touch caused it to light and open. Within lay rows and rows of black matte cases."In any case, prepare armaments."

#277 stepped to the cases, opening them. Without hesitation she began to prepare. "What is my purpose?" What tasks did he want her to do. Aside from prepare. She was already preparing. The question was, Is she there to protect him specifically? Was she to be a guard? Or a killer?

"Your purpose is the same as that stated in your central programming- you are Resurrected Matter Battle Android Series V Style 7.2 Unit Number 277, programmed and trained for military activities {with a special emphasis in this model on the protrection and/or destruction in the hands of the enemy of the Number Six Earth Evacuation Habitat}." said the hologram, facing her directly. "Arm yourself."

#277 was already arming herself. Her own personal arming units. She recognized them. The wires from arm to weaponry was being connected. Systems doing a diagnostic read, accessing the guns Sighting and ammunitions access. Everything was green.

The unit always had a dislike of guns, so non-personal. #277, before becoming a cyborg, had always liked to be up close and persoanl to those she killed. Wanting to witness that brief moment when the very soul escaped from the body. The tiniest of moments that turned a person fro a human..to a sack of dead useless weight.

Switching modes. AIs, Humans and Bio-androids or cyborgs were classified as friendlies. Anything else was registered as Enemy units. And enemy units were to be destroyed. These invaders would be dealt with harshly.

Knowing to get the upper hand she would need to jack into the main computer soon and begin a sweeping lock down. Confine the intruders and herd them in the direction she wanted them to go. A search of the layout would be done soon to find an adequate central chamber to lay down a siege upon them.

A warning to those who trasspassed into this domain. The predators were awake now. Death would now stalk these intruders...run them down like a wolf would chase down an elk. Death was coming for them...and they had no idea.